


home is wherever I'm with you

by bibliophile357



Category: Football RPF
Genre: But it's more fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10201772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophile357/pseuds/bibliophile357
Summary: Xabi retires. (and it's not as sad as it seems)“You know that I wouldn’t have done it without you,” Xabi says when Stevie already thinks that he’s asleep. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to do it alone. To leave everything familiar behind.”Stevie kisses him again as an answer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the middle of writing the next chapter for my other fic, but Xabi announced that he'll retire. And I needed desperately to write something about it, and then Stevie posted a love letter on instagram... So this happened, a pretty fluffy retirement fic. Title is from Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.  
> I hope that you'll enjoy reading it :)

 

 

_and I missed you every day from the moment you left_

_home, let me come home  
home is wherever I'm with you_

 

Xabi wakes up and he doesn’t even need to open his eyes, he knows by the coldness of sheets that Stevie has left. He groans and he pulls the blanket over his head, to pathetically cling to the warmth-fragments of the night. And he must admit it reluctantly that he does it because behind the excuse of his urgent need to get rid of the cold, there’s something else too. He takes a deep breath and inhales Stevie’s quickly fading scent, desperately trying to lengthen this moment, to capture a piece of eternity.

An eternity where Stevie doesn’t have to leave early in the morning to catch a plane back to Liverpool.

 

 

Stevie wakes up and the windows are open. He blinks slowly to get used to the light and he climbs out of the bed because there’s sweet coffee scent in the air, so Xabi must be already in the kitchen.

Xabi’s always been the one to get up early and open every window for fresh air and make coffee for both of them. Well, it happened a lot more often when both of them were in Liverpool, but they still find a way to meet each other every month. And then they can have at least one nice morning together, drinking Xabi’s heavenly coffee.

Stevie sleepily rubs his face as he walks into the kitchen and it’s like being punched somewhere around his ribs, he forgets how to breathe under the heavy _heavy_ disappointment. Because Xabi’s not there, only a cup of freshly brewed coffee and a note with Xabi’s neat handwriting that he had to leave for training earlier. When Stevie remembers how to breathe again, he curses. He curses their stupid schedules and the distance between them and every single damn thing that’s keeping them apart.

 

 

Xabi doesn’t wake up, he forces himself to go back to sleep because then he doesn’t have to think about the empty side of the bed. Then he doesn’t have to remember each time he looks at the clock that Stevie’s on the other side of the world. At first it was just a sea, now an entire ocean is separating them, thousands of kilometres, Xabi checked it out on Google maps on a seemingly endless night when he couldn’t sleep. Because they talked with Stevie on Skype before, but Stevie’s features are always grainy on the screen of Xabi’s laptop, his voice sounds less soft and more mechanical and Xabi cannot touch him. It fucking hurts to even think about it.

So Xabi chooses the dreamless sleep.

 

 

Stevie dreams of Xabi regularly. In fact, he’s been having dreams of Xabi for the past ten years. When they somehow find a matching point in their schedules and they can finally spend some time together, then Stevie never has any of these dreams, because he doesn’t need to fantasize about Xabi. Then there’s a flesh and blood Xabi and they can’t get enough of touching each other and they fall asleep with Xabi’s hand lingering on Stevie’s waist, his beard tickling Stevie’s skin. But most of the time Xabi is not there and Stevie has these hectic, troubled dreams about him.

Even staying awake is better than that because then the reasonable part of Stevie’s mind can remind him that yes, they’re far from each other, but only geographically. During some nightmares there’s not only physical, but also emotional distance between them and after these, Stevie spends the next day with thinking about what ifs. What if it’s really like that and they can’t maintain this long distance thing. What if they’ll be nothing by the time both of them retire. What if their talks about having a _home_ together will lose their meaning. He talks with Xabi on the phone about it and he chuckles softly and tells Stevie that it could never ever happen. Later in the night though there’s nobody to comfort him.

So Stevie’s grateful for every minute spent awake.

 

 

“Are you sure?” Xabi whispers in Stevie’s neck, still breathlessly. They had slow, painfully slow sex after Stevie told him that he’s ready, he’ll retire and he wanted Xabi to be the first to hear it.

Xabi took care of every tiny detail that made Stevie whimpering mess. He bit down a bit harder on Stevie’s lower lip, he spent more time than necessary on kissing his collarbone, leaving beard burn on the sensitive skin, he explored every inch of Stevie’s inner thighs before he finally lowered his lips on Stevie’s cock. They took the time. And they never broke eye contact.

“Yeah, it’s time,” Stevie whispers back and Xabi’s sure that Stevie’s not drawing uneven circles on his back because Xabi’s the one who needs reassurance and comfort. It’s Stevie who calms himself down this way. “I can’t keep the consistency I’d like to. There are games, a lot of games when I’m nowhere near the level I find acceptable. It’s not the same.”

Xabi wriggles even closer to Stevie and their legs are entangled and their foreheads are touching as they lie on their side. He doesn’t have to say anything, he just caresses Stevie’s cheek with his thumb and he silently wipes the tears away.

 

 

“So this is it,” Stevie takes Xabi’s hand in his own and he absentmindedly plays with his fingers. It’s a half-question, half-statement and he knows that it’s not even necessary to say it out loud. Xabi doesn’t mind it though, he’s probably used to Stevie needing to put his thoughts into words to process every detail.

“It’s better to do it too soon than to be too late, hm?” Xabi leans on Stevie’s shoulder and he really sounds calm, calmer than Stevie’s ever been.

“I guess,” Stevie mumbles and he tilts his head to press a kiss in Xabi’s hair, inhaling the ocean scent of the shampoo he’s using. It’s funny because now he can think about the ocean and it doesn’t send shivers down his spine. It’s not separating them anymore and sitting like this, wrapped up in a soft blanket, watching one of Xabi’s old movies and talking about the new chapter in their lives… the ocean seems to be pretty small compared to the excitement of the journey in front of them.

“You know that I wouldn’t have done it without you,” Xabi says when Stevie already thinks that he’s asleep. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to do it alone. To leave everything familiar behind.”

Stevie kisses him again as an answer.

 

 

“We’re so fucking old,” Stevie laughs and they’re a happy, sticky mess. Xabi props up on his elbow to look at the grinning Stevie, who’s all flushed skin and warm eyes and radiant joy.

“Well, I wasn’t the one who came after like five minutes,” Xabi smiles and his cheeks actually hurt because he’s been almost constantly smiling in these last weeks, Stevie even mocked him because of it.

“I love you, Xabier, that’s why,” Stevie answers and Xabi is so shocked by this spontaneous love declaration that he doesn’t even object to Stevie drawing him closer for another kiss. And then another and another and Xabi can’t help but smile into Stevie’s lips when he feels that Stevie’s getting hard again.

“Okay, maybe we’re not that old,” Stevie gasps when Xabi bucks his hips against Stevie’s and peppers his jawline with open mouthed kisses.

Then Xabi shots a glance at the clock on their nightstand and he sees that it’s already eleven and they have the whole day, in fact the whole week and month and the rest of their lives for each other, but Xabi’s still used to waking up pretty early. So he pulls back from Stevie and stretches his shoulders as he stands up.

“We should take a shower because we’re gross like this,” he says and Stevie groans theatrically. He doesn’t move though, and by the glimmer in his eyes Xabi can tell that he’s enjoying the view. This longing-playful-hot look that makes Stevie’s blue eyes darken is the only reason why Xabi walks around naked in their home more than necessary.

“Make me,” Stevie has a wide grin on his face and Xabi rolls his eyes. “Make me do it, Xabi,” Stevie repeats it and he raises one of his eyebrows expectantly, it’s a challenge.

“Very well, Stevie. If you don’t shower with me now, I’ll shave my beard,” Xabi is actually proud of himself because he utters this fake-threat in a very neutral tone. The countless press conferences where he had to answer the dumbest questions with a deadpan expression, he might still be grateful for them.

Then he turns back and walks towards the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water and sweet smelling bubble bath because he knows that it’s only a matter of seconds until Stevie follows him. And if they already wasted an entire morning, they can take a long bath instead of a shower. It’s more fun, too.

“You’re a big child,” Stevie’s voice comes from the distance and Xabi hears his approaching footsteps.

“Oh, so you’re the old man and I’m the child. Sweet,” Xabi smiles at Stevie when he appears in the bathroom door. He’s looking delicious and Xabi lets his eyes wander up and down Stevie’s long legs and narrow waist and chiselled abs. Xabi eventually tears his gaze away from Stevie’s body and climbs into the bathtub, waiting for Stevie to join him.

The water is cold when they finally decide that they should eat something.

 

 

Stevie can’t believe that Xabi’s showing him carpet samples at their morning coffee when he’s still not entirely awake and he can’t even form a coherent sentence, let alone decide on the colour of the carpet in their living room.

“There’s no difference between these three,” Stevie yawns and he sees even with half-closed eyelids that Xabi’s having this cute grimace on his face he always makes when Stevie does something stupid.

“Then I’ll choose on my own and you won’t be whining about it later,” Xabi says and Stevie nods sleepily, in his current state he wouldn’t even mind if Xabi decided for pink carpets. Who cares anyway.

“I won’t, I promise,” Stevie mumbles and takes another sip of his coffee. Ever since they retired and moved in together Stevie doesn’t have to worry about finding a note accompanying his coffee on the counter. Xabi’s there, constantly. And it’s wonderful that he can slowly wake up to the sight of Xabi preparing breakfast and it’s so fulfilling that Stevie often wonders how on earth he could live without it before.

“Maybe you could look at it later? When you’re entirely awake?” Xabi suggests and he arranges the samples in a neat pile.

Stevie suspects that the colours would still look the same an hour later too, but he doesn’t tease Xabi with it, he just agrees to it.

“But hey, I don’t really care about it. I mean, it’s nice, but,” Stevie stops here and he stands up to cross the distance between him and Xabi and hug him from behind. He wouldn’t be able to look into Xabi’s eyes when he continues. “But I won’t feel more at home here because the carpet’s beige or how you call this colour. You’re the one that makes me feel like _home_.”

Xabi gasps a little.

“Smooth,” he says and Stevie can hear it in his voice that he’s smiling. He loves it when he can pick out things like this just from listening carefully to Xabi’s voice, which is rich and soft and _real_ , they don’t need to suffer with late night Skype calls anymore that makes Xabi sound distant.

 

Later in the evening, when they sit on the couch and they’re switching channels to find some football match that excites both of them, Xabi hides his face in the crook of Stevie’s neck.

“You’re my home too,” Xabi accentuates every word with a light kiss and Stevie feels weightless and elated.

All these years, he thinks. It’s been worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this :) I would really love to hear about your opinion, your feedback means the world <3


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